


Forty Percent

by Trychtopus



Category: Lore Olympus (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-10-18 03:07:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20632079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trychtopus/pseuds/Trychtopus
Summary: A fluffy, ongoing collection of firsts between Hades and Persephone.





	1. Chapter 1

The temperature of the Underworld was proving somewhat difficult to get used to.

Persephone tugged gently at the sleeve of her sweater, wondering if she had finally found the right balance between style and function. It was a simple thing, really, a thick black cowl neck that she’d dug from the back of Artemis’ closet after recounting the events of her impromptu tour. While she still felt that the Goddess of the Hunt was overreacting a touch over her assignment, she was grateful for the clothing until she could buy her own. Try as she might, she couldn’t quite get Hades’ words out of her head when he mentioned that her usual floral touch didn’t quite meet the corporate aesthetic. She hoped this was more befitting.

Suppressing yet another shiver as the oppressive dry chill in the air threatened to seep into her very bones, she took a deep breath and tried to clear her thoughts. It was her first real day of her internship now that she’d gotten all of the paperwork and introductions out of the way. Hades had taken it blessedly easy on her in his tasking, or so she’d thought, though now that she was faced with the overwhelming enormity of the Underworld’s library system, she wasn’t quite so sure. Rows upon rows of towering shelves spread out before her seemingly into oblivion, all teeming with the deep crimson scrolls that held all of the intricacies of mortal life. How was anyone supposed to find specific ones in this mess?

She huffed quietly to herself, quiet not to startle the shades a scant few feet to her left, diligently scrawling away. _Two thousand years, and he’s never even bothered to alphabetize these!?_

Dusting her hands needlessly, the Goddess of Spring took a few steps forward and began delicately removing the scrolls from the first shelf, unable to completely quell the bubbling curiosity she felt stirring. Her only task for the day—and the foreseeable future, she supposed—was to simply create some sort of organizational system in the library. The first shelf was as good as any, she felt, though now that she’d had a chance to actually _see_ the library, she was quite certain that it would take her another few thousand years just to figure out how to navigate it. Even if the scrolls had been stacked neatly inside of their confines, it wasn’t like the shelving had any discernable markings for her to have a starting point.

Temptation took over for a moment and she gently tugged at the scroll in her hands until it slid open, wondering if its contents were even appropriate for her to see. On the one hand, she couldn’t see how she could possibly organize them all _without _looking at them, but on the other… Her eyes skirted the very top of the scroll where a timestamp was scratched into the thick paper, followed by a single word: _Birth._

These were the most intimate and accurate details of every mortal who ever lived. It was Hades’ job to know and judge them, not hers, and she felt a little bit like a pervert peeping in on them.

Still, she wasn’t going to get anything done if she stood there fretting in perpetuity. A timestamp was as good of a starting place as any, and it meant that she’d only have to open the scrolls just a _little bit_ to do her job, and that was good enough for now. Setting the first scroll down behind her in the only open area available, she smiled at it proudly, happy to have come up with a tentative plan. It was when she turned and saw the shades place six more scrolls upon the already filled-to-bursting shelf that she sighed flatly and lamented her internship anew.

She understood why Hera had done what she did, but damned if she wouldn’t rather be pruning roses right about now.

It only took a few minutes of peeking and sorting to discover that the scrolls were, in fact, haphazardly organized, at least by era, and so she found herself falling into a comfortable pace of simply clearing out one shelf at a time and then neatly stacking the scrolls in relative order by century as well. Her newly discovered powers of flight were a Godsend in this application, as she was relatively certain she would have died of embarrassment had she had to ask someone for a ladder simply to reach up to the top shelves. Everyone she’d encountered so far seemed so _capable_, so put together, that she was beginning to realize more and more why everyone still treated her like a child.

A casual glance over her shoulder showed her that the shades, as expected, were still mechanically going about their business. She wondered if they startled like the souls on Acheron, or if they were accustomed to the gods and nymphs fluttering in and out of the library at this point and she would be safe to make noise. It would be nice to have some music to keep her company, at the very least. She’d have to remember to ask Hades about it later.

Her hands paused, as they always did, when she thought of him.

She wondered what he was up to right now. Was he judging souls? Was he sat upon a magnificent throne somewhere, the very embodiment of elegance, looking down upon those who begged mercy of him? Or was he stuck in a meeting with Hecate and the others, glaring sullenly at them over his coffee cup while they bickered over trivial items? She smiled a little at the thought. She bet his leg would be bouncing under the table. A fleeting memory of how his thighs looked in his slacks came to mind and she blushed furiously, wondering how in the world she was going to make it through this entire internship knowing that he would be floating around.

Even so, it wasn’t the most difficult thing she’d ever had to do, and as she worked methodically to bring some sense of order to the overflowing library, she realized that it was actually pretty satisfying work as well. Just as she tucked the last scroll of the shelf into a perfectly-sized nook, she heard her phone go off in her purse. Despite knowing full well that Hades was likely the last person that would be texting her at work, she still felt her heartrate pick up just a touch…

As she fished the phone out of its dedicated pocket, she wondered briefly if she was even allowed to have it at work. She shook her head almost immediately after and sighed at herself. Who was going to scold her? The shades? She unlocked it and felt her gut slam to the floor.

_Apollo:_

_Hey. Movie night tonight. Looking forward to seeing you._

Movie night. She inhaled sharply and willed herself to calm down, but the sweat at her palms was a firm indicator that it wasn’t working. Artemis had told her much about her “movie nights” the day she’d moved in. They sounded so exotic to her at the time, with so many different types of people coming together, and the food, and a different movie every time, and no bed time or curfew or anyone telling you to go wash up and make sure you set your alarm… She’d been so looking forward to them, but now, after what had happened the _last _movie night they’d had, she scarcely wanted to go home at all.

Her thumbs were shaking as they hovered over the keyboard. She could feel herself trembling with the effort of trying to force out everything she really wanted to say back to the man who had taken her innocence and shattered her confidence, but all she could manage to do was to delete the offending text and swallow back the tears that always came. She knew she couldn’t keep running away forever, but it was so hard to even see his name pop up in a text message… What in the world did she expect to have happen whenever she actually had to _look _at him? After the last time she had tried to tell him how she felt, and he had completely blown her off, insulted her, belittled her…

The longer she thought about it, the more twisted she felt. She wished deeply that she had just let her anger get the better of her that day so she could have been done with it. Even now, she could feel the thorns around her head pressing into her scalp and she embraced the feeling for a moment before releasing a deep breath, knowing now was not the appropriate time or place. It wouldn’t do to destroy the library she’d been assigned to improve her first day. Not to mention, Cerberus had unexpectedly had her back that day as well, and she couldn’t help but smile when thinking of the King of the Dead’s goofy three-headed hound. She wondered what he was up to today, too. She hoped he’d stop by.

Still… There was one more thing she could try. After all, Hades _had _offered to help her if she felt that she needed it, and it wasn’t like he actually had to _do _anything…

She opened her phone back up and navigated to his name, feeling silly and scared and hopeful all at once. There was no reason to believe that he would deny her. He hadn’t yet. In fact, of all the individuals she’d met so far in her time on Olympus, Hades had actually been one of the most respectful Gods she’d had the pleasure of meeting. It was a wonder he got roped in with his brothers, from what she’d seen, but then again she’d only been there for a few weeks. Her thoughts traveled back to their first meeting, when he’d said those few words she’d had no idea at the time would be so crucial to hear…

_“Why is it always night here?”_

_“Because I don’t want that shitty little sun god in my neck of the woods.”_

As long as she remained in the Underworld, Apollo couldn’t find her, and if she had to work late, it was the perfect excuse to avoid having to explain why she didn’t want to attend the movie night without outright lying to Artemis. She didn’t know much about the three kings or how they organized their kingdoms or where they drew lines in the proverbial sand, but she _did _know that Hades’ tone had indicated that he was pretty serious about not allowing Apollo to enter the Underworld. She supposed it would be more appropriate to ask Hecate, but she didn’t have Hecate’s number (did Hecate even have a phone?), and so this was the next best thing. At least, that’s what she told herself. Any excuse to text Hades would work, as far as she was concerned.

_Hey. Is it alright if I stay later today?_

Despite the normalcy of the question, something she supposed would be perfectly professional from an employee to a boss, she still felt the butterflies in her stomach swell to an uproarious din. What if he thought she needed extra time because she was incapable of the task he gave to her? Instinctively, she chewed her bottom lip and looked back to the enormous shelves of scrolls. Even if she were making phenomenal progress, wouldn’t it take _any _average person extra time to do this correctly? Her phone buzzed in her palms and she was annoyed that it made her jump.

_Hades:_

_Sure thing, sweetness. Everything alright?_

To her credit, she kept herself from squealing in delight, but the sudden intense tunnel vision that honed in on that one word left her dizzy for a moment. Despite all else, she loved that she was special enough that she had her own pet name. She began to type out a response explaining away the question and paused, smirking just a bit, wondering how far she could push him today. He’d been receptive to her flirting over the baklava, after all, and it wasn’t like she was doing anything _grossly _inappropriate… They were friends, right? And she’d done something similar with other friends before…

Turning just a bit, she took a moment to remember how to add a picture to her texts, then snapped a selfie. Deleted it. Took another. Deleted that one. Fixed her hair a bit, adjusted the neck of her sweater, changed the angle, shifted, made sure to get the comically overflowing scrolls in the background, and gave a deliberately weak thumbs-up. Took three in the same pose, just to be sure, then attached one.

_Everything is fine, just working through millennia of paperwork._

Despite the silliness of it, she still found herself chuckling over how devilish she felt. She gave it a few moments and when there was no response, she shook her head, figuring he’d see it sooner or later. Back to the task at hand.

The _scratch-scratch-scratch_ of the shades’ quills behind her was a soothing backdrop while she worked, even if she did find it fascinating that they had not yet become accustomed to pens and pencils. Despite having lived among the mortals nearly her entire life, her exposure to them had been extremely limited, thanks to her mother. She couldn’t have even guessed what the current fashions were, much less their writing utensil technology. Still, it seemed hugely inconvenient to her to have to dip something into something else just to write, and they did a _lot _of writing. Feeling brave from her earlier interaction, she sidled up behind one of the shades and peeked over its shoulder, curious.

_…Bites into apple. Chews. Bites into apple. Chews. _Dip. _Bites into apple. Chews. Walks to window. Throws apple core into compost pile below. Walks back to desk…_

She sighed. How exciting. Although she could think of worse ways to spend an eternal afterlife, she was pretty glad this wasn’t going to be her fate. As she returned to her own job, she found herself wondering briefly about that particular shade. What kind of life did _they _lead? How good—or bad—do you have to be as a mortal to get assigned to that job? Could the shades feel boredom or sadness or loneliness, or did they simply exist for that task alone for the rest of eternity? It seemed a little sad to her if that was all they got. What a waste.

A moment in Tartarus fluttered across her thoughts like ice, reminding her of the expansive, lifeless gaze of the shade that had pinned her by the throat, and she shuddered violently in an attempt to shake it. There were definitely worse fates than narrating a life.

Distantly, the unintrusive _bzzt-bzzt _of her phone snapped her out of her horrified memory and she jumped for the second time that day. Still shivering, though whether from the bad memories or the generic cold of the library she couldn’t tell, she plucked it from her purse and swiped it open.

_Hades:_

_It’s no better at the top, trust me._

A picture of him, obviously taken in haste, posed above an ocean of important-looking documents spread across the surface of his desk. He was tilting his coffee cup forward as if in a toast to her, with his customary sarcastic eyebrow raised and small smirk that teased a dimple from his cheek. Unable to restrain herself, she let a small giggle of disbelief slip before she covered her mouth, glancing askance at the shades.

They soldiered on, unbothered.

Distracted by his handsome face and the fact that he took time out of his busy day to tease her back, she grinned, forgetting that she was supposed to be an untouchable maiden.

_I don’t know, you at least have a window to go with your twelve cars. How’s the weather up there? Need to borrow my jacket?_

Regaining focus was difficult when she was wonderfully plagued by the memory of desperately needing to borrow his the day that he’d rescued her. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the silk liner on her arms as he’d wrapped it around her, could still smell the unique scent of his cologne and sweat that lingered even as he’d flown her through the rain. The concept of him needing anything at all from her was inconceivable and yet, at the same time, she felt largely indebted to him. In all the short time they’d known each other, he’d made her feel respected and if not trusted, then at least he’d given her a space where she could try to become something other than her mother’s daughter. It was more than anyone else, except for maybe Artemis, had done for her.

Resolving to finally, _actually _get some work done, lest Hades show up and find that she’d spent all day flirting, she gave one last grateful smile toward her phone, hoping that the man on the other end would somehow feel it.

_____________________________ 

It had been a very long day.

The God of the Dead pressed his fingers against his eyes and scrubbed at them, embracing the fireworks that came from the pressure. He could feel a migraine coming on and knew that it was going to be another long, restless night before it had even begun. Even now, he’d stayed much longer than he had intended to, irritated by the intricate complications of rendering eternal judgement upon souls. Sliding his hand down so that he could rest his chin on his palm, he briefly considered the repercussions of outsourcing this particular facet of his job, as well, but quickly dismissed the idea and shook his head. Even if someone else could be trusted to impart fair judgement, he would likely micromanage the situation so hard it would basically still be his job, anyway.

A halfhearted swirl of his coffee cup revealed that he had maybe one large sip left, albeit ice cold by now, and he tossed it back in one disgusted gulp before chucking the cup in the wastebasket. No sense in wasting it. How late was it, anyway? It was both a blessing and a curse, he supposed, that he had no real obligations at home. On the one hand, having no pressing reasons to be home meant that he could properly focus on the things he needed to get done at work without being late for anything. On the other, it meant he had no reason to leave work, either. A glance at the clock on his laptop showed him that it was nearing seven o’clock and he sighed, feeling the old familiar fingers of depression begin their slow creep down his spine.

How pathetic, to spend an eternity behind a desk.

Resolving to at least go home and get comfortable for his sleepless evening, muscle memory dictated his closing up rituals and he flipped over to the CCTV that he monitored remotely on his computer. He wondered if his employees realized how close of a watch he truly kept on them. All the torrid affairs, the heartbreak, the pranks, the hazing… So much of it he knew about in secret. He cared little for actually _addressing _the issues—that’s what he had Hecate and her goons for, after all—but he still felt at least partially responsible for making sure to check for any raging emergencies before he closed up shop for the day.

Flicking through the screens with enormous disinterest, he wondered why he bothered anymore. It was always the same sequence of empty halls and classrooms, abandoned offices lit only by the blinking emergency lighting, occasionally the odd couple making out or Thetis, Thanatos, and Minthe lurking about together. He frowned, pausing in his surveillance, as his stomach turned over her name. He’d thought for certain that after her suspension he would find her showing up at his door in tears with an apology at the ready like always, but this time was apparently different and he hadn’t heard from her at all. No texts, no phone calls, nothing. He wasn’t sure which option made him feel worse. He was grateful for the time to heal, yes, but even at her worst, at least she’d been his something. He hadn’t been _completely _alone.

He shook his head, determined to break that train of thought before it got started.

With each _tap, tap, tap _came more screens, more empty rooms and staircases and conference rooms. All the same, day after day, year after year. He continued on nevertheless, barely paying attention, pausing only when a brief flash of pink appeared on his screen and was gone again. His hand paused above the arrow keys and then hit the back button, and then he felt his heart seize within his chest.

There, perched upon the expansive bay window of the cafeteria, sat Persephone, Goddess of Spring.

A few quick keystrokes enabled him to zoom in on her and he stared, awestruck at her beauty even in her ignorance of his observance of her. Her hair was shoulder-length today, pulled into a messy bun at the nape of her neck and dotted with simple white flowers. The oversized sweater she wore pooled around her hips. She was barefoot and gazing out at the gentle snowfall outside the window, swirling a mug of a steaming drink between her hands. Cerberus was with her, snoozing quietly with his head on her outstretched legs.

He looked back down at the clock. 7:04. What in the world was she still doing here? It was nearly four hours after she could have gone home. Even allowing for a bit of extra time as she had requested earlier, he couldn’t come up with any good reason why a fertility goddess would want to spend so much time in a place where nothing was meant to live. He watched her for a few moments more, indulging in the gentle curve of her shoulders and the delicate structure of her tiny feet—everything about her was so small, he reflected—before snapping his laptop shut and rising out of his chair.

It was a relatively short journey to the cafeteria, as it shared the same building as headquarters. It was easiest that way, he’d originally thought, to organize all the commonly needed things into the same building. Tower 1 wasn’t much for exciting work, but it made it easiest on the new employees when they could default back to the same building for nearly everything they used in their day-to-day. As he stepped into the elevator, his mood sagged, heavy with guilt, as he recalled the look on Persephone’s face the day that Minthe had ambushed him there. The day he’d felt obligated to refuse the one gift of thanks anyone had ever given him. The day she’d been forced to watch, unable to leave, as Minthe had hung all over him and doted upon him with falsely sweet words while the little goddess suffered the consequences in the background.

It was a wonder Persephone came back at all, much less that she still spoke kindly to him on top of it.

The click of his heels was the only sound echoing throughout the hallways as he strolled along, half hoping that she wouldn’t notice so that he could surprise her. As concerned as he was that she was there at all, he found himself anxiously looking forward to seeing her again. The difference in social status and corporate stature hadn’t properly hit him until they were both fully engaged in their separate positions; there was no reason that he should ever _have _to see her, even when making requests from the archives. That didn’t mean he couldn’t _find _a reason, but nevertheless, his job was as rigid as it ever was. He anticipated that the opportunities to make her blush would be few and far between.

Smirking to himself, he slowed his pace, eager to catch _her_ off guard, for once.

The God of the Dead leaned against the entry to the cafeteria, casual in appearance but fraught with tension, and slid his phone from his pocket. Keeping one eye on the pink goddess perched, unaware, in the window, he navigated to her text chain and grinned, feeling impish.

_How was your first day?_

As it sent, he turned the screen off and waited, watching in eager anticipation. As expected, Persephone startled a bit and picked her phone up to peer at it. What he _didn’t_ expect, however, was the broad smile that lit up her girlish features when she saw that it was a text from him. He stared openly, transfixed by that smile that could only be for him, wondering if it was actually real. His phone buzzed in his hand.

_Kore:_

_It was fine. I can see why you needed the help._ _Everyone here has been really nice to me._

He glanced up from her text to see that her smile had disappeared and instead was replaced with something far more melancholy. He frowned as he watched her reach down to stroke one of Cerberus’ ears and wondered what had changed so quickly. Was it something he’d said? Or done? Should he have stopped down to check on her at some point? He shifted against the door frame and wondered what to do.

_Even Cerberus has been charmed by your presence, I see. He gets all the girls, I’m afraid._

He slid his phone into his pocket and waited with his heart in his throat. It sounded corny, but if it made her smile, it would be worth it. He hated seeing her upset. Watching in eager fascination, he found himself tapping his thigh inside of his pocket as an outlet for some of the anxious tension that held his body still, committed to his surprise. It was difficult not to laugh when Persephone read the text, smiled, then re-read the text and stared at it with comically drawn brows. He remained in position still as she looked up and around, scanning the broad landscape of the cafeteria before finally coming to notice him standing in the doorway.

The blush that spread across her cheeks immediately destroyed any resolve he’d had to stay put.

“Burning the midnight oil, kitten?”

“H-Hades…” As quiet as it was, her voice carried easily through the room. What he didn’t expect, though, was the brief flash of fear that skittered across her eyes before she managed to correct it. He frowned. It had been very apparent up to this point that she wasn’t afraid of _him_, per se, or at least not like the countless others who ran from him. What was it that she was afraid of now?

He padded over to her, careful to keep his body language casual lest he upset her _and _excite the dog, who had barely found it in himself to lift his head off her lap to greet him. Typical. As he approached, however, Persephone’s eyes followed him faithfully, and he offered her what he hoped was a kind smile.

Thankfully, she returned it in spades, still unable to suppress the lacy blue flowers that sprouted up along the edges of her hair whenever she saw him. To his surprise, she shooed Cerberus off her lap and drew her knees to her chest, patting the bench in front of her. “Would…would you like to sit with me?”

_Now and for the rest of my life, little goddess._ He swallowed the words and instead slid onto the bench, bracing his back against the window. She wavered between looking at him and being fascinated by the snow outside, which had picked up a great deal. Fat, graceless snowflakes tumbled from the sky and swirled on the street below and he chuckled, amused by her rapt attention. “I have to ask what keeps a goddess like you in the Underworld after hours. Are you sure you’re alright?”

He expected her to come back with something sad, or perhaps fearful, given her earlier secret transition. Her smile was still warm, however, when she turned her head toward him. “I…kind of prefer it here, sometimes.”

He raised a brow and smirked at her. “You _prefer_ being cold and getting lost?”

When she laughed and gave him a playful shove in response, his skin burned where she’d touched him. He wondered if he could get her to do it again.

“I enjoy the atmosphere here. It’s so exotic during the day with all of the people and the lights and the rush of it all, and afterwards it’s so quiet… And the snow is so beautiful. It’s nothing at all like the mortals say it is.” She took a tiny sip of her drink.

He stared momentarily at the place where her mouth met the ceramic of the mug, then shook himself out of it. Even so, he was at a loss for words. Criticism he was used to, but compliments… He never knew what to do with compliments. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to mind his permanent awkwardness and pushed on, leaning her head against the window as she did so.

“You know, ever since I was allowed to come to Olympus, I’ve felt like a little fish in a big pond. There are a lot of times where I realize just how far behind everyone I am.” She swirled the mug in her hands a few times before glancing back to him. “But you’re the one person who never treated me like a child.”

He wasn’t entirely sure where she was going with this. “You’re a strong, capable woman. I see no reason to treat you otherwise.”

She chuckled. He clung to the sound, a soothing balm for his soul after the last few weeks of drama. “I suppose you’re right, but even still. This job you’ve given me… It’s going to—“ She paused just long enough to swallow back what she was about to say and he cocked his head, curious. “—well, I’m just really thankful that you allowed me to stay, even though you didn’t want to. That’s all.”

Interesting. The sad smile had come back. So it must have something to do with her working here rather than how she felt about him directly. Emboldened by the extra clue, he reached out and took her chin in his fingertips, forcing her to look up at him. “It has been quite some time since I’ve had a guest as lovely as you are in my realm. You’re free to come and go as you please. I hope you know that.”

He expected her to turn away, but instead froze when she pressed her cheek into his palm, just gently enough that he could feel the skin shift against his own flesh when her smile deepened. “Careful, I may never leave.”

“Hm, I do have a bit of a reputation for kidnapping vivacious young women.” He made a show of stretching out and pillowing his arms behind his head, knowing he was being ostentatious and not caring. “I suppose I’ll have Hecate draw up the paperwork tomorrow. Lots of red tape involved.” He tossed a sly wink at her just in case she thought he was serious.

The giggles bubbling from her smile told him that she did not, in fact, expect to be kidnapped.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, simply enjoying each other’s company, when he felt Persephone shift a bit so that she was hip-to-hip with him and set her mug down next to her, out of the way. He wondered if she realized that she was actually touching him. Even as badly as he wanted her attention, he consistently reminded himself of her earlier explanation of how openly affectionate she’d been raised to be. There was no sense in clutching onto subtle touches or glances like that if it was simply part of her general repertoire. Still, he mused, unable to forget about how good her body heat felt where it pressed against his thigh, there was no sense in denying himself a _few _indulgent memories. He closed his eyes and focused on the minute contact, thankful to be close to someone for a little while.

“Hades?”

“Hm?”

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

The God of the Dead chuckled quietly and reached over, unable and unwilling to stop himself from playfully tussling the pink strands that were slowly slipping out of their confinement. “You’re welcome. I’m glad you recognize what a tremendous burden it is, hosting one small goddess after hours. I had to make some emergency arrangements just to ensure we had the space.”

Her indignant stirred a roguish laugh from him. Sometimes she was so predictable it was as if he had the manual in his hands. Snow continued to pour out of the sky and began to collect on the ground, draping the landscape in muted neon where the lights of the various signs and advertisements still glared through the sparkling blanket. A glance between Persephone and the weather outside showed him that she apparently did not, in fact, intend on leaving any time soon. Emboldened by her continued presence, he reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, startling her out of her reverie.

“Obol for your thoughts?”

“I’m afraid I’m saving it in case I get stopped on the beach again.” Her shy, quiet smile peeked over her cowl neck, smacking him between the eyes. “But if you must know, Artemis is having a get together tonight and I’d really rather not go.”

He frowned. He was used to being the antisocial type, particularly when faced by his brothers’ overzealous love of involving themselves in essentially everyone’s business but their own. Persephone had never particularly struck him as the same type, though. He wanted to press her on the question, but his mouth was suddenly parched from his alternative realization that she had never moved her head away from where he’d tucked her hair back. Leaning forward, wincing only slightly at the strange cramp in his back from the odd angle, he used the same hand to turn her chin toward him, concerned. “Ko—Persephone—“

And just like that, her hand was on his own cheek, and he was quite certain he had no idea what to do.

“It’s fine,” she murmured to him, though he barely heard the words over the slight tremble in her hand, “really, it is. It’s just some things I think I need to figure out on my own. Still,” her thumb smoothed against his cheekbone and he fought very hard not to shiver, “it’s really nice to have somewhere that I can actually sit and think about it.”

It was the second time he’d been thanked sincerely in almost as many weeks. His resolve to maintain his control on the situation was rapidly dissolving in the face of her raw, vulnerable gratitude. Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to just lean forward, to just take hold of her and to kiss her and to refuse to let her go—not ever—but all he could muster the strength to do was to offer a weak smile and probably a blush while he was at it. “Can I at least take you somewhere more comfortable than the headquarters cafeteria window? It’s really coming down out there.”

Her laughter was abrupt and loud and magical, startling him and Cerberus alike. “Back to your place, Mr. Scoundrel?”

Despite the fact that he knew it wasn’t the way she’d intended it, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “Unless you’d prefer the supply closet—“

He found himself abruptly cut off, not by words, but instead her mouth on his own. Her lips were full and trembling and a little dry, but they were on his, and it was terrifying and wonderful at the same time. He stared openly at the place where her eyelashes met her cheeks and wished that in all of his hundreds of years of experience in kissing a woman, he could get his body to do…literally anything but what it was doing.

Despite his thoughts screaming at him to respond, his body sat, frozen and useless, against the gentle, curious onslaught of Persephone’s kiss.

After a few moments, she began to pull away from him. He panicked momentarily, desperate to salvage the situation, and grasped lightly at her, sinking his fingers into the hair at her neck and holding her still. It was if his joints were thawing in slow motion and he watched with mild trepidation as her eyes opened to gaze at him with the smallest, gut-wrenching hint of disappointment. It was the last push he needed to draw her back in and kiss her in earnest, praying to everyone he could think of that it wasn’t too late to save it.

The taste of her, the feel of her on his lips and in his mouth and in his head, the way she smelled, the way her breath tickled across his bottom lip when they broke for air and dove back in… It was all an incredible, life-sustaining drug, better than nicotine, more intense than anything he’d ever tried to dull the numbing darkness of his day to day drone. It was agony to pull away from her even for a moment, even though the blow was softened by being able to see her spinel gaze filled with joy instead of anything else.

“What would the damage be, little goddess?” He smoothed a thumb over her bottom lip and smirked softly, hoping to disarm her further. “Thirty percent? Forty?”

“Hades,” despite her attempt at being serious, she couldn’t help but start to giggle, and ducked her head down below the cowl of her sweater. “If you don’t take me back right now, it’ll be 100% and stay there.”

How wonderful it was, to drink in her squeal of delight as he swung her into his arms. To hear Cerberus’ joyful bark behind them as he hastily carried her out, indulging in the sinful ambrosia of her impossible affections. It would be a sleepless night, to be sure, but perhaps not such a terrible one. As the God of the Dead felt the Goddess of Spring tuck her head against his neck as she’d done the first time she’d visited, he smiled softly to himself and successfully beat back the demons in his head for the first time in a long while.

They were replaced simply and easily, with nothing else than what he might like to make her for breakfast in the morning. What a wonderful problem to have.


	2. First Dinner

“It’s 6:37, Cerberus. Should I start worrying yet?”

The adoring gaze of his loyal hellhound watched him carefully as he paced across the kitchen. There were times like now that made it painfully obvious as to why he preferred the company of dogs to people. Persephone wasn’t even remotely close to being late for dinner, but the last time he’d made dinner for someone special, it had ended in complete disaster. The wounds from that particular fiasco had just scabbed over recently and yet here he was, tempting fate once more.

What was it that the mortals said? It was only hubris if you failed? 

Outside, he could hear the distant sounds of the rest of the pack play fighting in what little yard he could manage to keep habitable for them. It was the first evening he’d invited Persephone over for no reason other than to enjoy each other’s company, and he was nearly turning himself inside out over the prospect of her being in his home, sober, for the express purpose of seeing him. He’d considered having dinner ready for her but had quickly come to the realization that he had no idea what kind of food she even ate. Determined to make himself useful _somehow_, he stocked the fridge with everything he might need should she accept his offer, but ensured that he had enough numbers for takeout to stock a phonebook just in case.

6:42. She still had 18 minutes to get there. He’d offered to pick her up, of course, but she’d laughed in her magical way and waved it off, saying that it was important for her to practice navigating things on her own. Try as he might to reassure himself that she was nothing like Minthe, had never given him any reason to doubt her punctuality or commitment to their…whatever this was, he still found himself having to consciously stop wringing his handkerchief in his hands. Maybe it was just her gracious way of leaving herself an out when she decided she’d made a mistake? He glanced outside at the tremulous sky where the deep hues of blue and purple swelled pregnant with darkening storm clouds.

So help him, if it rained on the Goddess of Spring, he’d find a way to put the clouds in Tartarus, too.

The King of the Dead fished his cigarette tin from his pocket with trembling hands, hoping that indulging in at least one of his vices might carry him to the next checkpoint in the evening. As he placed one of the nicotine sticks between his teeth and moved to light it, however, Cerberus launched himself from the floor in a flurry of heads and barked tremendously, rocketing toward the sliding glass doors. The racket startled him deeply enough that his cigarette tumbled from his mouth and the hair stood on his neck, and he sighed, irritated. “Cerberus, what the hell is it—“

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

His heart stopped for a moment.

_That’s it, that’s her texting me to tell me she’s not coming._ He sighed deeply to himself and closed his eyes, gathering the strength to open the undoubtedly crushing message. Before he even reached for it, he felt it go off again, and it gave him pause. She’d never double-texted him before. Was it that urgent? Another deep breath swelled in his chest and he made a second attempt at lighting his cigarette, ignoring Cerberus completely as his paws continued to slide backward on the kitchen floor tile. Whatever poor creature that had caught the hound’s eye could probably stand to live a few moments more.

Unable to find any more excuses to procrastinate, he slid his phone from his pocket and glanced at the time before opening the text chain. 6:52.

_Kore:_

_Hades?_

_Can you come to the gate? Cordon Bleu is here…_

He stared at the words. He’d been so focused on preparing himself for her blowing him off that he had never considered that she might actually like to come inside if she showed up. _Idiot. You always forget things like this._ Shaking his head, he placed his phone on the counter and dusted his hands down the front of his jacket, taking just a few seconds to preen away his anxiety. _It’s Persephone. You know her. She knows you. There is no pressure to this situation. Just be yourself. Just like the first night she was here. _

A few lengthy strides carried him to the kitchen door, which led into the back yard, Cerberus bounding along exuberantly behind him. He’d told her to use the back entrance to the house, as it was vastly more secluded from the paparazzi undoubtedly lurking around his property. It seemed as though word of his…_spirited review_ of the previous article posted about the pink goddess had begun to spread amongst the scavengers, but he’d rather not take any more chances with protecting her as much as he could. He was used to navigating the press, but she was nothing more than collateral damage, and she didn’t deserve it.

When he was finally close enough to see what she’d gotten herself into, however, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Posted like a sentry against the privacy fencing of his yard, Cordon Bleu stood in all his tiny glory, glaring furiously up at Persephone, Goddess of Spring, who had brazenly found the courage within her soft heart to peek delicately over the very top of the gate. The rest of the dogs had very studiously found Other Things to Do while the standoff occurred, leaving the two tiniest creatures in his life to engage in a furious battle of wits.

He had half a mind to stand back and watch, simply to see what would happen, but he would save that for another day.

Knowing full well that he was about to decimate his suit with dog hair, he strolled forward and plucked the angry Pomeranian off the ground, tucking him under one arm while he manipulated the gate lock with his other hand. Cordon Bleu’s little heart was still pounding away when Persephone slid through, smiling bashfully up at him and fussing with her hair. “Thanks,” the word swept from her mouth in an embarrassed huff and he felt his chest tighten, “I’m going to win his love over one day. You’ll see.”

“I don’t doubt it, little goddess.” He motioned for her to step forward ahead of him where he’d left the kitchen door open, wanting to secure all of the dogs in the back yard so they could have a few moments of peace to themselves. Truth be told, he very much did doubt her ability to win over the White Fury, but he’d enjoy watching her try, nevertheless. When she was safely inside and removing her coat, he set the small dog down on the ground and gave him a firm stink eye. “You’re going to have to put up with her here whether you like it or not, you know.”

Cordon Bleu at least had the grace to drop his ears, despite his eyes still burning with restrained wrath.

“I’m going to go inside now, you guys be good out here.” Despite his irritation with them, he still made sure to dole out an affectionate pat on the ball of fluff, then slide inside backwards lest any of them try to sneak through. He wanted this evening to be perfect, and he sincerely doubted that having a whole pack of dogs tearing up the joint would add much other than mud and chaos to their lives.

Inside, Persephone was nowhere to be found.

He frowned and glanced around, thinking that perhaps she’d simply gotten herself comfortable in the adjacent den, but he found only her coat draped over the arm of the couch and her purse tidily tucked underneath it. _Not even here five minutes and she’s already run off?_ It wasn’t that he particularly minded, but knowing her propensity for getting lost, he wondered if she’d be alright without her cell phone to text him to come find her. He chuckled at the thought. So it would seem that even now after they’d gotten more comfortable around each other, he still held a relatively constant responsibility to rescue her from peril. At least it made things interesting.

Shaking his head, he turned and startled for the second time that night, albeit for an entirely different—and astronomically more ridiculous—reason.

From around the corner of the hallway jutted a spearhead, though the tip wavered in the air just a bit. He raised an eyebrow at it and smirked in disbelief. Of course he recognized it, though the last time he’d actually paid it any attention was centuries ago, but the question burning within him was why _that_ one—

“Freeze!”

The voice was muffled and overly deep, a poor imitation of his own. He pursed his lips to keep himself from smiling and folded his arms. “Oh no,” he drawled, “whatever shall I do?”

Unexpectedly, two eyes peeked around the corner and the spear drooped considerably. From behind the gleaming metal of one of his old battle helmets, Persephone’s glare tried desperately to reach him. The size of the helmet was easily twice that of which she would have needed, unfortunately, and the whole thing drooped comically to one side, resulting in her glare only hitting him at half power. The urge to laugh was getting stronger and he fought valiantly, knowing he was going to lose. “No, not like that. You have to do it more scared. I’m a warrior over here!”

He cleared his throat. “Do you frequently pilfer items from peoples’ cherished collections to play dress up?” Taunting her into indignation was quickly becoming one of his favorite hobbies.

As expected, she slid into his kitchen and planted her hands on her hips. The full effect of Persephone’s petite, curvy body overshadowed by his hand-forged war helmet was too much for him to bare, and before she could even scold him for his assumptions, he belted out a laugh. It was an effective antidote to whatever she had on deck to throw at him and she, too, collapsed into a fit of giggles. After a few moments, she pulled the heavy armor off and wiped delicately at her eye, tossing him a half-apologetic grin. “Sorry, I’ve been wanting to do that since I woke up here the first time.”

“A penchant for punishment _and _a desire to sport military armor? My sweet goddess, you must be _miserable _in the library.” She beamed at him, still clutching the massive helmet and spear in her hands. The dichotomy of such an innocent, gentle spirit clutching such terrible weapons of war made his heart smile. “I’ll be sure to tell Ares that he has a strong potential recruit the next time he decides to send me 400 souls on a whim.”

“He’d better not,” she murmured as he took the helmet and spear from her, “I’m not even out of the Early Middle Ages yet.” Her voice carried gently down the hall to him as he buffed her fingerprints from the face of the helmet and placed it delicately back onto his stand. “Honestly, I thought that it would be fascinating getting to read about mortals’ lives, but they’ve all been so _boring _so far. No wonder they start wars with each other.”

He chuckled. “I think you’ll find that they all blend together after a while, unfortunately, but that’s the glamorous work of filing away souls.”

“That’s terrible,” two pink eyes, glaring at him again, fearlessly and without remorse. The only thing that delighted him more, he realized, was when they gazed at him in affection, but it was a very close second. He wasn’t entirely sure _why _she didn’t treat him like everyone else, as if making eye contact with him would cause _their _soul to wither and perish, but it was too delicate at this point to try and figure it out. As expected, she held steady and wagged a finger at him. “Even if they’re boring, they’re still lives. They matter.”

That really did force a laugh from him. “Pardon my transgressions, but after two thousand years of who-stole-whose-cow, I find myself disagreeing with you there.” When she began to protest anew, he placed a finger against her lips and raised an eyebrow. “Now, did you come over to debate the judgment of souls, or would you like to eat at some point?”

As if on cue, the Goddess of Spring felt her stomach let loose a comically loud rumble.

He smirked, victorious.

“I…could eat.” Her pout was lethal in its effectiveness. “I still think you’re terrible, though.”

“100%?”

“No, more like…45%. After all, you still judge them fairly. What’s for dinner?”

Their banter had allowed him to forget his crippling anxiety for a while, but the simple question brought it all roaring back to the forefront like a tidal wave. He made a show of acting like he was trying to remember while frantically going over the entirety of the contents of his refrigerator, regretting every single thing that he’d purchased, and very quickly wondering why he hadn’t had the sense to simply get takeout and make it _look _like he’d cooked dinner for her. “Well, we have a few options… We could cook here, or I could order something.”

Where he had expected more tremulous excitement from the petite goddess, he was surprised to see a frown mar her round features. _Oh no, I really should have had something ready. Gods, Hades, you’ve had two millennia to figure this out and you’re still screwing it up._ He turned briskly to snag the menu off the side of the fridge. _They’d better get here quickly—_

There was a tiny hand on his forearm. He glanced down at it, then up at Persephone’s apologetic face. “Sorry, sometimes my face talks before I do. I can literally hear you tying yourself into knots over here. It’s okay, I just… The last time you cooking was brought up wasn’t really my best moment ever.”

He blinked owlishly at her before his memory, ever-ready to sabotage him with terrible flashes of his worst moments, snapped to the forefront of his mind the feeling of Minthe’s fingers trailing sweetly down his spine as she recounted to Persephone how talented he was in the kitchen. How it had seemed as though he’d heard her speaking underwater as her overly-saccharine poison floated directly toward the unsuspecting Kore while he stood uselessly, unable to do anything but soak in the look of terrible hurt and jealousy that the fertility goddess failed to hide.

Of _course _it would be strange to have him cook for her after that particular experience. He wondered briefly if he’d been _born _this stupid, or if he’d simply picked up a knack for being an insensitive fool along the way.

Behind him, while he wallowed in his own stew of misery, Persephone was waist-deep in the refrigerator. The sound of a plastic bag rustling jostled him out of the terrible memory and he turned, surprised to find her placing the fresh produce on the counter. “Um, d-do you want help w-with that, or—“

She smiled at him over the bag of red onions. “What, you thought you’d get out of it entirely? Sheesh,” she pulled an onion out and shook her head at it, brows drawn up in overly-pitiful judgment. “Kings.”

“Hey, wait a minute—“

“You’ve got plenty of food here we can work with. No need to order out. I figured I could help you get things ready, if you want?”

She wanted to help him make dinner for them. The concept was so alien to him he’d never even considered that she could cook at all. He stood, still frozen from the emotional whirlwind, and watched as she searched for the cutting board. Tiny blue petals fluttered from her hair like tear drops along the way. Just as the ice in his thoughts began to melt at the sight of Persephone navigating his kitchen without a care in the world, he watched, nearly in slow motion, as she reached for the one drawer he’d never expected anybody to see.

As her fingertips drew closer, he had mere milliseconds to imagine the look on her face when she pulled open the drawer to find the little mementos he’d kept of her, secretly stashed away for his worst nights, and that letter—

A lightning bolt of horror shot through his entire body. The letter he’d written to her. It was _in there_.

“HEY, haha, the cutting board is over here! Why don’t I get started on that while you can take care of the…the—“

She was staring at him suspiciously after his outburst.

“—the potatoes—“

Her hand was still inches away from that damned drawer.

“—if you want.”

Over her shoulder, he could see every single one of his dogs staring it at them like the leftovers of the peanut gallery. He wondered if Gods could die of embarrassment, or if they were immune to that, too.

Finally, the pink goddess turned away from the drawer and reached for the spuds on the counter. Hades made a mental note to relocate those items at the first opportunity, provided that he didn’t choose to simply crawl into a hole and hide for the next hundred years. He’d thought dog-proofing had been challenging; it never occurred to him that he’d have to potentially go through a course of Persephone-proofing as well. Between the helmet, the drawer, and her brief stint in Tartarus that he still couldn’t explain, he was starting to wonder if perhaps giving her a dedicated building with wall-to-wall padding would be most beneficial.

They worked together in comfortable silence for a small while, occasionally sharing small bites of spares here and there or finding excuses to nonchalantly bump into each other in convenient, affectionate spots. He couldn’t remember ever having actually cooked _with _somebody before, and she was surprisingly adept in the kitchen for all her inexperience in other areas of life. All things told he found himself really enjoying the experience, even if the nagging threat of the following loneliness once she left him crept agonizingly close to the edges of his thoughts. Determined to soak up the time while he still had it instead of ruining the experience with his persistent depression, he slid the pot of stew into the oven and shut the door, surprised when she crouched next to him to peer in at it.

The God of the Dead looked askance at the Goddess of Spring. “So…vegetarian, huh?”

The Bringer of Chaos peered back at the God of Wealth. “Is that…an issue?”

He grinned at her. “Sounds like a huge missed steak to me, but it’s none of my business.”

Persephone gave him a flat look, which in turn deepened his overly-proud smile until she could no longer keep her straight face. The two of them dissolved into giggles near-immediately, halted only by Hades wrapping one large arm around the pink goddess’ midsection and swinging her up onto the kitchen counter. Her indignant squeal was cut short as he impulsively pressed his mouth against hers, feeling overly confident from being immersed in their comfortable, domestic lull for the past hour. It was only the second time that they’d properly kissed, and not terribly soon after their impromptu date in the cafeteria at work. A risk, to be sure.

Judging by the way her thighs pressed around his hips as she returned the attention, a risk worth taking.

It was much more comfortable having her brought up to his height, where she could sink her hands into his hair and he could cup her chin and it was all there for them, easy and free and within whatever reach they needed. She was growing bolder around him, he noticed, adding little touches down the back of his neck or tugging on his shirt collar and it lit a fire within him that he’d suspected died long ago. _Be patient with her, _he urged himself as he tilted her chin away to gain access to the soft flesh at her neck, _don’t behave like an animal… Don’t be Zeus. _

The way that her fingers clenched through the hair at the nape of his neck when he nipped her screamed otherwise, and although it was seriously tempting to simply take her right then and there, food be damned, he pulled away from her at the last moment. There was time for that still, he reminded himself, even though the pout in her eyes nearly reversed his decision entirely. Nevertheless, he was an all-powerful god and a king of an entire realm to boot; if he needed to put the brakes on to save them both from—

She hooked a leg around the back of his and pulled him in, flush to her body, bringing a gasp out of both of them. He could have hid his mild arousal before, but _this _close, surely she would notice.

The heat and softness of her body against his, combined with the heavy-lidded stare she tossed his way, completely decimated his self-control and so he returned with fervor, trailing blazing hot kisses down her neck as a man possessed. The sounds of delight and arousal that peppered the air around him as a result were encouraging him in a way he hadn’t felt in hundreds of years, and he pressed on, unbothered by anything else. Her fingers were in his hair, on his shoulders, grasping at his forearms… He glanced up from the deep V in her shirt, asking the barest amount of permission to go further, to allow him to see and taste and smell and indulge the both of them and to show her how good he could make her feel.

Just as she took a small gasp of air to respond, the both of them jumped nearly out of their skin as first the oven chimed to signify that the food was ready to come out, which caused a chain reaction of setting the dogs alight with excitement at the prospect of their own dinners…and perhaps a few table scraps.

With the oven blaring beside them and the dogs wreaking havoc outside the door, the two of them couldn’t help but degenerate into peals of uninhibited laughter.

“Can you take care of the stew? I guess I need to feed those guys at some point.” His pants were tight and his heart was full and it was everything he could do to just soak up the niceness of the situation, no matter how little he felt he deserved it, despite knowing full well that there was no coming back from what had just happened. Not that evening, at least.

“I think so. I’ll set the table while you work on it. If they let you come back in.” She was still suppressing tiny, bashful giggles and he had to chuckle, himself when he reached out to wipe a tear out of her eyelashes. That, of course, led to another kiss, which nearly led back to more until Persephone pushed lightly against his chest and smiled against his lips. “Hades.”

“The dogs, right.”

They split ways, reluctantly, with the pink goddess busying herself with setting the kitchen table and Hades tending to the copious dishes for the pack outside. By the time he was finished portioning everything out, separating them, getting everything settled and heading back in, Persephone was sat patiently at the table with everything waiting on him.

Well, nearly everything. He eyeballed her glass of tap water with distaste. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

“Oh! Um, sure, that would be…nice.”

He grinned and retrieved one from the cooler at the end of the cabinets. “Still suspicious of alcohol after your first big night out, hm?”

She rubbed bashfully at the back of her neck and said nothing, though her posture told him everything he needed to know.

“Don’t sweat it, sweetness. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.” He set two glasses down on the table and poured them both a drink. “I’d say if you wanted to call my bluff you could ask my brothers, but I’d…really rather you didn’t.” Just in case, he tossed her a sly wink before he handed her one of the glasses.

Hesitantly, she took the smallest sip she could and choked quietly on it before a deep blush spread across her cheeks. He propped his chin onto his hand and swirled his own wine, watching in amusement as she struggled to maintain her composure over the unfamiliar taste. If someone would have asked him a year ago if he thought he could tolerate having a teenager over for dinner he’d have laughed outright, but truth be told he was sort of enjoying the experience of watching someone go through all of the things he took for granted for the first time.

Once she’d finally settled, he sat across from her, still wondering what he’d done to deserve such a wonderful evening. He watched as she carefully set the glass down next to her plate, eyeing it suspiciously, before sinking a spoon into her stew. “What are your brothers like, anyway?”

“Stupid.” He murmured it reflexively as he stirred at the steaming bowl in front of him, then realized that probably wasn’t what she’d wanted to hear. A glance up at her face revealed that she was, in fact, _raptly _interested, and it almost made him laugh. He forgot, sometimes, that her sarcasm filter wasn’t nearly as developed as his was. “They’re good guys, I guess. They make rash decisions and behave like idiots more often than not, but that’s family, for you. Why do you ask?”

The Goddess of Spring chewed thoughtfully on her mouthful of food, then swallowed, then sighed. “It’s just…everything here is so different from what I expected it to be. All of what I ever knew about Olympus I had heard from Hermes, my mother, or the mortals, so you can imagine what that must have been like.”

Hades grimaced at her. “No wonder you thought we were scoundrels.”

“You _are _scoundrels.” Despite her reproachful tone, she was smiling at him again, and he liked that. “The only person the mortals fear more than Zeus is…you.” He thought she was going to leave it at that, but she continued, confused. “Which doesn’t make any sense, since you’re not even the one who takes their souls. You just…organize them. Did you know they look away from their offerings to you because they think it’ll get your attention otherwise?”

At that, he really did laugh out loud. “I barely pay attention to myself. What could I possibly care about what they’re offering me? They’re going to end up here anyway.”

She was on a roll at this point, waving her spoon in the air in between bites. “And Zeus,” she tried to force a few words to come out but could only arrive at sighing in exasperation, with which Hades found himself vehemently agreeing. “I think I know the least about Poseidon. The mortals leave really strange things for him before they go on voyages.”  


“Poseidon is a pretty strange guy, so that makes sense. Have you seen his realm before?”

She took another cautious sip of wine, much smoother this time, and pursed her lips. “The ocean? No, I’ve never been allowed go to there. My mother says he’s an unpredictable pervert.”

Despite the insult, he nearly spat out his own food in laughter. “She’s not wrong, although, he can also be quite protective of people.” A brief image of Poseidon’s face as he insinuated going after Persephone skittered across his thoughts and he deadpanned, not wanting to encourage her _too _much. “Mostly the pervert part, though.”

They continued eating in silence for a few minutes before his curiosity got the better of him.

“What do the mortals say about _you_, little goddess?”

“M-me?” She was paused halfway to killing the last sip of her wine. Without missing a beat, he pulled the bottle from the ice bucket and refilled it for her.

“You.”

He watched, fascinated as with everything she did, as she took a long sip of her drink and rolled it in her mouth before swallowing. “I—“

“—am about to tell a huge lie.” Had he not been confident already, the alarmed squeak that erupted from her would have clinched it. “You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be dishonest with you.” They’d nearly finished their meal at this point and he sat patiently, in no real hurry to clear the table just yet. He wondered if she’d actually tell him the truth this time, but as the seconds ticked past, he doubted it. At long last, she released a deep sigh and looked down at her fingers fiddling with her napkin in her lap. “I know what the mortals _used _to say, but now, I’m…not so sure.”

“What happened?”

“Something terrible.”

Well _now _his curiosity was piqued. “What in the world could someone like you have done that’s so bad?” He was walking a razor’s edge and he knew it, but the temptation to get her feathers ruffled was too much to resist. “Accidentally put a tree in the middle of the road? Pissed off a flower nymph?” He leaned back in his chair and smirked. “Shit in someone’s rosebed?”

He received a tremendously dirty look for his efforts and laughed, delighted that he could tease her so freely now that the painful tension between them had eased somewhat.

“I’m not sure it’s my secret to tell you, if I’m being honest.” She placed her napkin on the table and chewed thoughtfully at her thumbnail. “I think…it would be better if you ask my mother. Or maybe Hermes.”

“_Hermes?_” The puzzle pieces continued to multiply. “What could he possibly know about you?”

Her smile was impish. “A lot more than you do, God of the Dead.”

He couldn’t quite stop the jealous huff that escaped him before she’d heard it. Before his feelings snowballed into a terrible place, however, she reached over and took his hand in between hers, smoothing her thumb along his knuckles and soothing him in a way he’d never expected would work. He looked up at her helplessly, wishing for the millionth time that he wasn’t too damaged to speak his thoughts properly, but she never really seemed to mind that he could only flounder his way through his emotions when she was around.

“It’ll all come to light eventually, I promise. Thank you for dinner. I really did have a wonderful time.”

It was his turn to reach up and hold her hands between his, dwarfing them between his palms. “I…have a few movies lying around here somewhere, if you’d like to stay a bit longer. You know it would hurt Cerberus’ feelings if you left so soon.”

“He does seem to be a bit put out,” she smiled softly at the kitchen door, where each of the other dogs had decided that the dinner was too boring and were instead having a serious romp in the distance. Only Cerberus remained, forehead pressed against the glass, icy blue eyes tearful and wide. “He really does love you, doesn’t he?”

Hades hummed quietly in agreement as he gathered the dishes to drop in the sink. “We’ve been through a lot together. Would you mind bringing him in?”

He watched from the corner of his eye as Persephone dashed to the door and slid it wide before kneeling down to embrace the massive dog. He tried not to eavesdrop too hard on the words of praise and affirmation that tumbled from her lips as she stroked the hound’s impossibly black fur, but he couldn’t help but indulge in it. Minthe had never liked his dogs, had always said they were a filthy nuisance unbecoming of a king. Persephone, on the other hand, appeared to have grown quite fond of Cerberus in particular. He chastised himself for comparing the two yet again, but he supposed it was inevitable on some occasions.

The guardian gave him a knowing glance over Persephone’s shoulder as she scratched his back and he rolled his eyes, exasperated. Even his pets were matchmakers these days, it would seem.

Soon enough, the table was cleared, the glasses were topped off, and he quickly dipped into the bedroom to change into something a bit more casual so he could relax. Once his usual track pants and t-shirt were suitably cozy, he joined the other two in the den. There was a brief moment where he paused, not wanting to invade the young goddess’ personal space, but as he sat on the couch and threw his arm up onto the back of the cushions, she’d pressed herself neatly into his side as if she’d been doing so for years.

Shortly thereafter, Cerberus helped himself up onto the couch and laid his head in Hades’ lap, releasing an overly-deep sigh of relaxation knowing full well he wasn’t permitted to be on the furniture. The God of the Dead simply shook his head, placing one hand on Persephone’s waist and resting his other arm along Cerberus’ back, just close enough to still manipulate the television remote.

_Guess I’m just trapped here for eternity at this point, _he smirked softly to himself as both of his favorite creatures curled closer into him and the movie began, _how terrible._


End file.
